Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Empty Nest Eat your Heart Out

Do you remember those old episodes of Golden Girls where they would have an opening scene featuring Blanche, Dorothy, Rose and Sophia, and then some neighbor or acquaintance would come over and then the rest of the episode was inexplicably devoted to this friend? Yeah, I hated those episodes too. I would wait all week for Saturday night and all I get is this lousy cop-out of an episode featuring some extremely unfunny character. So I was left with “Amen” and “227” as my weekend entertainment. Man, am I glad I discovered alcohol.

At any rate, these forgettable episodes were Golden Girls’ attempt at spin-offs, only one of which had any success (moment of silence for Richard Mullligan, please). And while Empty Nest was not quite the pioneering, ahead-of-its time sitcom that Golden Girls was, it still managed to find an appropriate vehicle for the vastly underused talents of David Leisure that did not involve hocking imported cars. So it was not a complete failure. What is my point in recounting this bit of 80’s TV lore? Well, even though my blog is barely a short-lived mid-season replacement at best, I am feeling the need for a spinoff. Why? Because I am in a slump, and every day I feel like writing about it, but I know that topic gets old real fast and I would lose the bulk of my readers if every day I kept rehashing the fact that I haven’t gotten laid in nine and a half weeks. Anybody who reads this blog knows that already, so better to discuss such fun topics as bugs, humidity and traffic on I-95.

So, today I will introduce my spin-off blog titled “Slump Diary .” There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that keeping a journal of this period and obsessing over it daily will only serve to perpetuate the slump and eventually Slump Diary will surpass White Dade in number of posts. It will include the same brand of bitter sarcasm you find here, but will deal with only one issue and will not contain pictures, links or shout-out’s to other bloggers or personal friends of mine. It will not be a collection of bitching about how girls suck and “Why can’t I get laid?” manifestos, but rather stories and reflections on the Murphy’s Law that seems to rule your life during a dry spell. And the posts will usually not be much more than a paragraph. So, yes, now I have time to write two blogs, even though I am supposed to be in my office less. (Thought: Perhaps if I spent less time blogging….NAH, couldn’t be)

I don’t expect most of you to read it. Actually, I kind of hope you don’t. Nor will I reference it again on this blog. But, you know, if you want to check in occasionally feel free. Oh, and once the slump is over the blog will be deleted. So if you try and go there and don’t find it, you can go ahead and give me an imaginary high-five or whathaveyou. Because, as we all know, unless the girl is 2-bills plus, I never kiss and tell. So, today I will put up the first, and last, simultaneous post between the two blogs in a tribute to Dreyfus the Dog.

Day 69Yes, I do understand the irony of starting a blog that is somewhat about sex on the 69th day of the Great Slump of ’06. But you know what, I thought about doing this whole thing yesterday and decided to start today and thought I should do it by day number. And then I counted the days, and, well, would you look at that, this is day 69. Totally unintentional.

Oddly enough 69 is roughly the number of days in 9 and a half weeks. You think Zalman King didn’t know that? Just like his shout out to Jerry Bruckheimer in that movie that I believe I am the only person on Earth to have caught. Ahhh, Nine and a Half weeks. I think every man on Earth Should aspire to be Mickey Rourke in that movie. And has there ever been a hotter female masturbation scene than Kim Basinger in that film room? No, no there has not.

And just to clarify, while it has been 69 days since my last “encounter,” that was one encounter with an ex girlfriend, which really is just a notch above going pro as far a getting laid goes. Other than that, it’s been since Halloween. Just so we have this all in the proper context. Well, since the White Dade post is already too fucking long, I’m going to save what was going to be today’s topic for tomorrow, namely an analysis of why I think I am in the situation I am in. And I have no one to blame but myself……

11 Comments:

I only remember one "Empty Nest" episode and it was when he couldn't figure out what was wrong with this kid who was seeing double and all sorts of bad stuff. Here he had eaten fish sticks out of the trash and had food poisoning. SPOILER: The kid survived, it was a miracle.

Oh wait, there was another time the nurse spent the whole episode looking for special kid bandaids.

added tv trivia for Empty Nest: Hoag Hospital was shown as the medical building where Dr. Weston (Richard Mulligan rip) practiced. I thought this quite exciting at age 9. I have to thank the creators of Empty Nest for the root beginnings of my mental incapacity to distinguish fiction tv from reality. Little did I know the O.C. would come out years later to detail every last bit of my life. McG is my hero.

Nocole - They were okay. But like the undercard to the main event that was Golden Girls. I will say that "NO Place Like Home" goes through my head any time I see the number 227 on anything.

I don't want to cannibalize the WD readership by them reading the Slump Diary. Like if you only had time to read one, I'd rather it be the orgiinal. But, as a great Urban philosipher named Shcok G once said, "Doowhatyalike."